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by PolarZero88
Summary: Your father is abusive, your sister is dead, and your horizon is bleak. But when your true family is revealed, you realise that your world is not quite as it seems. Summary is a load of bull but the story is half decent, I think.
1. Author's Note

Okay! Here goes! Heya, the name's Zi. This is certainly not the first (or best) fic I've written, but it is definitely the first one that I have published. So, uhh, *hides behind door* please don't hurt me if I do something wrong! Also, this is going to contain some seriously dark stuff. Like, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, mentions of rape, so on, so forth, so if you ain't into that, I highly suggest you go read something else. But, if you're anything like me, and dark, depressing stuff feeds your soul, then go right ahead! The plot gets deeper as it goes on, so don't kill me just yet, okay!

Oh, and by the way, this idea literally started off as a plot bunny that I wrote down as a crack fic that just kinda kept going. So there are probably just sooo many plot holes it is not even funny, and it may even be just a tad bit rushed, but eh, sue me.

No, please don't.

Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of the Undertale characters, or the original plot! Just my own characters and my own plot! So, ummm, please don't sue me Toby. ;)

Okay. I got sick of writing (y/n) and all the other reader-insert things in another of my second person fics, so, WHOOSH! MAGIC! You readers all now look exactly like one of my OCs, and have the exact same name! Whoooooooooosh!


	2. Prologue

You hated your parents. Well, one of them, at least.

All he ever did was complain about how much of a failure you were to him. "Get better grades!" this and "Do more with your life!" that. The one time you got a C for Maths he beat you so severely, you didn't go to school for another week on the grounds that you were 'sick'; you were only in first grade then.

You were seven when your kind, loving, protecting mother died, leaving you alone with a mute younger sister and an abusive father. You were eight when he lost his big-shot job at some carpenter business or tradesman company - you never bothered to listen to him when he ranted about how much he did for you and your sister - and you were forced to move to a sleepy little town called Ebott, and to live in a house that was more of a shed than anything actually qualified to live in.

You were nine when your little sister was expelled from her school after she supposedly 'got into too many fights', even though she was the most passive person you knew; she wouldn't hurt a fly. You were nine and a half when your father brought home the bloodied body of the school principal, and threats to keep quiet or you would be sharing the same fate. You vividly remembered that night. You had spent it huddled in your tiny closet with your sister, your hands over her ears to protect her from the sounds of the shovel upheaving soil in the back yard. For the next few months the principal's face was all over the news, but no police officers or FBI agents showed up at their doorstep.

You were ten when your sister was finally admitted to a new school and you realised that your father wasn't going to get caught for what he did. You always stared at that patch of lawn when you daydreamed about leaving that forsaken house, moving to Alaska and getting an awesome new job as a police officer - what ten-year-old didn't want to be a police officer - to pay for an awesome new house on the mountainside.

You were eleven when your eight-year-old sister ran away - or, at least, that was how your father put it. You had a very strong suspicion that he had left her somewhere to die, and had long since lost hope that she would one day appear on the porch with a 'sorry, but it was just a huge prank and there were cameras everywhere' gift basket and her usual impish grin. You had smiled when you first thought of that scene. It was something she would do.

You were thirteen and a half when monsters appeared from Mt. Ebott. You saw them all the time on the street; there was one armless monster kid - he was literally named Monster Kid, but he insisted you call him MK - that you had become particularly good friends with one day when you went to the park. He was a few years younger than you, but you couldn't help but go along with his stupidly, childishly unrealistic ideas.

The first time you mentioned him to your father, he backhanded you and sent you to the kitchen to start on dinner early; as if that counted as a punishment.

"Monsters are just that, girl, monsters," he had said. "If I ever hear about that kid again - or God forbid, see you with one of those... those, abominations, you'll end up in the ground."

That was one of his favourite threats. You had no doubt that he would follow through with it if you disobeyed him, either.

You forced yourself to ignore MK when you saw him at the park the next day. Things just went even more downhill after that.

* * *

 **DON'T WORRY THIS GETS HEAPS BETTER AS IT GOES ALONG AND THE CHAPTERS WILL BE LONGER JUST PLEASE DON'T COME TO MY HOUSE WITH TORCHES AND PITCHFORKS JUST YET...**


	3. Chapter One

You threw your school bag in the ground by the door as you walked in. "I'm home! Not that you would care...," you added as an afterthought, immediately going into the kitchen to get dinner sorted early so that you might get some homework done afterwards.

As you cooked a simple stir-fry - you didn't want to go food shopping the next day without using everything you already had, so you had scavenged the fridge for half a cabbage and some beef that you suspected was over a week old - you thought back to the day's events.

Your school was beginning to suspect something was up in your household - if it could be called that. The school councillor had called you into her office the other day and temperately asked if something was wrong at home, saying that your bruised arms and face were a cause for concern. You had shrugged off her concern with a false sense of confidence, but it concerned you that things we getting that noticeable.

Your father lumbered into the room just as you were dishing up. He grunted in your general direction as he took the offered plate and sat heavily down on the patchy, uncomfortable couch in the living room, which you could see from where you ate your own food standing at the kitchen counter.

Your father was a big, burly figure, over 6' 5", with ragged, mop-like brown hair that was flecked with grey, and no matter how much he dyed it he couldn't mask his receding hairline. His beard was disheveled and unkempt, the same mud-like shade of brown; though, it was more grey than brown now, at his 'ripe old age' of 53. His eyes were narrow and beady, in a shade of brown so dark it was almost black. His arms were as thick as tree trunks, and though made more of fat than muscle now that he was out of work, could still pack a powerful punch when he put the strength of his overly-broad shoulders behind it. His shirt was a few sizes too small, and thus showed a portion of his beer gut as he sat in his typical slouch, shovelling food into his mouth absently. He guffawed loudly and rudely at some obscene comedy film in the TV, food flying from his mouth as he did so, his arms repeatedly slapping the arm of the ratty couch.

You sighed and pointedly looked away from the TV and looked at the calendar hanging on the utilitarian fridge. Tomorrow was the 5th of September; your sister's birthday. You would go and get some flowers for her after school and put them by her grave in the back yard; you had long since accepted that your beloved sister was probably dead.

There were some beautiful yellow bell daffodils at the florist near your school. You would get a bunch of them, you decided, slipping your dirty plate into the sink.

"Girl, c'mere."

Your father's gruff voice made you pause in the doorway to your room. You backtracked down the hall and stood by the arm of the couch, pretending not to notice the scene playing on the TV. "Yes, father?"

"You're moving schools tomorrow. Can't afford the fancy-schmancy schmuck-fest you're at now."

You held back your disbelieving scoff at his use of the word 'fancy'; the filth-pile you were being "educated" at - note the quotation marks - was anything but 'fancy'. "Where is this new school, father?"

"Don't ask questions, girl, I'll tell you what I want to tell you," your father spat contemptuously. "Use your brain. The address is in the letter on the counter. Read it."

You bowed your head respectfully to hide the sneer of contempt and disgust that was rapidly growing on your face. "Yes, father."

"And get me som'more food, would ya?"

"Yes, father."

You grudgingly dished up another heaping plate of food - seriously contemplating the addition of bleach or turpentine, but ultimately deciding against it with a crestfallen sigh - and after delivering it you sat down on the uncomfortable wooden stool at the counter to begin reading the letter that you had not noticed before.

59 Patterson Street, Redwood Park. That was the address of you new school.

You sighed resignedly and trudged tiredly to you room, banging the door closed and flopping heavily onto your too-small bed.

No use doing homework now, you reasoned, plugging some staticky headphones into your outdated phone.

* * *

 **Please don't kill me. This will get better. Promise. X3**


	4. Chapter Two

The next morning was uninteresting and bland, aside from the fact that you got up earlier than usual to allow yourself time to find your new school - you weren't familiar with Redwood Park, or it's bus schedule - and made a quick breakfast of toast; a rare commodity. You quietly tiptoed out the front door, carefully closing it behind you as to not wake your father, snoring loudly through the thin walls, and jogged resolutely down the street to the nearby bus stop. That was almost the only good thing about where you lived.

As you searched through the bus timetable to look for one that would bring you to Redwood - or one that at least took you to the interchange at Abbottvale - you saw a truck pull into the driveway of the house across the street. You watched with the mild, detached interest of someone watching something that was of no interest to them purely because there was nothing else to watch.

A tough-looking man stepped out of the truck and started directing his colleagues to remove furniture and similar objects from the storage space behind the cabin. The men then disappeared inside the rather nice-looking house just as a bus pulled into the stop, the doors swinging open invitingly. You looked briefly at the number at the front - 836 - and, after confirming that it would take you to your desired location, stepped up into the platform, Metro Card in hand. You just barely caught sight of similar trucks pulling into the driveways of the houses on either side. Odd, yes, but really, you had better thing to worry about.

* * *

The third bus finally rolled to a halt at Stop 42, and you got off with a tired groan. You looked disinterestedly at the addresses of the nearby houses, turned left, and began the slow, sedated walk of someone who really didn't want to be where they were going.

It's not like you had all that many friends at your old school; but you knew how things were there. You knew who to avoid. You knew who to suck up to if things got bad. You knew who to hide behind, and how to do it without seeming obvious. You knew who you could push around; not that you did it very often.

You were heading into an unknown that was completely... well, unknown.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination; a big, three-story building with the classic, university-style, ivy-covered white-brick walls and a vast front garden, complete with topiary and well-kept hedges that lined the gravel pathway that led to the front doors. The doors themselves were dark-coloured wood and sheltered by a porch-like patio held up by thick columns of stone. The porch extended out to the right, where you could just see a large sheltered area adjoining a car park through the hedges.

You looked up at the building and noted the especially blunt sign with a scoff of unconcealed mirth; it quite literally defined the building with the word "SCHOOL" written in big, bold letters.

You opened the heavy front doors with a sudden sense of dread, clutching the letter in your hand like a lifeline. It had told you to see the principal as soon as you arrived for your timetable and such, but... well, you had no idea where the principal's office was.

You saw movement in the corner of your eye, and turned to see a heavily-set figure walking down the hall away from you, presumably having just exited one of the many rooms lining one side of the hallway, silhouetted by the morning light beaming through the big windows set in the eastern wall.

"Hey! Umm, excuse me!" you called to the figure, watching as it paused and turned. You struggled to hold in your gasp as you saw that he was not a man at all, but a huge, goat-like monster. His face was covered with thin white fur, with thicker golden fur covering his head and chin. Two gracefully curved horns sprouted out from between two floppy ears, and his eyes were... surprisingly kind in their doe-brown depths. He was holding a duffel bag in his huge paw-like hand, and you could see oversized gardening tools peeking out from beneath the flaps.

"Howdy there, young one," the monster said in a low, fatherly voice that wasn't at all unpleasant to the ear. "Is there something I can help you with, child?"

You shook off your surprise and cleared your throat. "U-uhh, yes, can you please tell me where the principal's office is, sir?"

The goat-man chuckled heartily; a warm, gravelly sound. "Please, no need for formality, child. Call me Asgore. And of course, I will show you there, if you wish."

You nodded to him gratefully as he showed you down the opposite corridor and, after a few weaving turns that he promised you would get to know eventually, gestured to a door to your right.

"Thank you, Asgore sir," you said, bowing your head out of habit. Asgore just rumbled a laugh and, after a deep-voiced "Any time, my child,", resumed whatever duties he had been involved with before.

You took a deep breath and rapped your knuckles softly on the door. You heard a kindly, soft-spoken voice call out "Come in,", and you took that as your cue to enter.

The room was surprisingly homey for a principal's office, with childrens' drawings hanging proudly on the walls and photos of different school events sitting on the desk among dozens of papers and files. Another white-furred goat monster, smaller than the last, sat at the chair behind the desk, dwarfed by it's immense size.

Her violet eyes were bright and kind as she looked up from the papers held in her paw-like hands, thin reading classes sitting on a soft-looking pink nose. She gave you a soft smile.

"Ah yes, you must be our new student, yes?"

You nodded nervously.

The goat woman's smile widened. "Come now, do not be afraid, my child. I do not bite. Come, sit, and I will give you your timetable."

You sat delicately on the comfy-looking chair that stood before the desk, watching as the goat woman dug around in the papers she had been looking at earlier, handing you a pristine white folder after a few moments.

"This includes your schedule, a map of the school for each story, a list of extracurricular and after-school activities and a few documents that you will need to sign to authenticate your enrolment," the goat woman said. She then gasped and put a hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh! Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself! I am Toriel, the principal of this school."

You resisted the urge to giggle at her flabbergasted expression. "It's nice meeting you, miss. I'm Polaris, but you... probably already know that, huh?"

Toriel gave you a sad smile. "Actually, your... father?-" she paused and looked for confirmation at her use of the word, and upon receiving a short, tense nod, continued, "-did not refer to you by name when he called me to arrange your enrolment, and told me to give you the required paperwork when you arrived today, so I am afraid that we know nothing of what we should about you, such as name, age, allergies..."

You looked through the folder and found forms inside that inquired of the same things Toriel had mentioned. "Do you want me to fill them in now? According to this timetable, class doesn't start for another-" you looked to the clock hanging on the wall nearby, "-fifty minutes."

Toriel smiled; the expression suited her. "That would be lovely, my child, if you can spare the time."

You just grinned - sincerely, you noted with a warm, unfamiliar feeing rising in your chest - and slid the forms out of the folder, taking Toriel's offered pen.

 _Given Name: Polaris_

 _Surname: Greywalker_

 _Age: 16_

 _Birthdate: 08/11/1996_

 _Year Level: 10_

 _Allergies: N/A_

 _Extra Allergy Information: N/A_

 _Emergency Contact:_

You hesitated to write down your father's phone number. You didn't want him to be called if you got sick or injured at school; he'd just punish you for it, as unfair as it was, so you left the space blank and continued filling out the form.

When you had finished, you looked up to see Toriel giving you a concerned look. "Have you no one to put down as an emergency contact?" she asked. "Why not your father?"

Thanks only to years of practice, you managed not to flinch. "Oh, uhh, he's at work more often than not, so, uhh, he probably wouldn't be able to pick me up if I got sick or anything anyway."

An odd look flashed across Toriel's face before it returned to her kind smile. "Oh... well, in any case, is there anyone else you can put down? Extended family, or neighbours perhaps?"

After a moment of thought, you remembered the old lady that lived next door. She had given you her phone number after she found you locked outside the house one night when you were six, when your father was out and you had forgotten your keys. She had said to call her if it happened again, and had made you get a spare key cut for the house. Luckily, your father hadn't found out, or...

You suppressed a shudder and resolutely stopped thinking about it, your inert memory instantly finding the combination of numbers and writing them down neatly. You silently promised yourself that you would never get so sick that the school would need to call her.

Having satisfied Toriel, you handed her the forms and leant back in your seat. The process had taken less than ten minutes, but you could already hear movement in the halls behind you.

Toriel ushered you to the door. "Now, you don't want to be late to your first class, my child."

You had your hand on the doorknob when a sudden question hit you out of the blue. "Uhh, Miss Toriel..."

The principal paused in her tidying of her desk. "Just Toriel is fine, my child. What is it?"

"Uhh, probably should have asked this earlier, but... just wondering, is this... a monster school?"

You immediately regretted your impulsiveness as you felt rather than saw Toriel freeze.

"... do you... have a problem with monsters, my child?"

You could hear the hurt in Toriel's voice and rushed to dispel her worries. "No, no, not at all, Mi- Toriel! I was just curious, that's all, I-" You cut yourself off when you realised how little you had thought about your answer.

Were you okay with being in a school full of monsters?

Toriel didn't seem to notice your abrupt stop in favour of sighing with palpable relief. "Oh, I am glad, my child. Now, be off to your classes, it would not do for you to be late! Please, come see me any time to tell me how you are faring, or if you have any questions."

With a muted nod you exited the office and walked through the hallways with the map as your only guide. You saw that your locker was on the second floor, and your first class of the day on the third.

Well, this was sure to be interesting after all.

* * *

 **Yay! I finally actually introduced characters from the game! See? Dad was wrong!**

 **Also, I just looked, and HOLY CRAP THIS STORY HAS TWO FOLLOWERS I THOUGHT THAT PEOPLE WOULD CHEW THIS UP AND SPIT IT OUT. Don't leave just yet. Please.**


	5. Chapter Three

"Now, class, we have a new student!"

You hid well away from the students' sight in the hallway, taking deep breaths as you waited to be introduced to the class.

"You may come in now, Polaris dear."

You stepped nervously into the room, looking out over the sea of faces.

The first thing you noticed? A good portion of them were dogs.

The second thing you noticed? Why were there so many of them?

The third thing you noticed? They... weren't judging you at first sight like you thought they would.

Your roaming eyes were met with an abundance of stares, both curious and enraptured. You waved nervously.

Your teacher for English, a spider-like woman with three pairs of arms coated in reddish-brown hair, gave you an encouraging smile. She crossed two pairs of arms and used the remaining one to gesture to the class. "Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"

You cleared your throat in a nervous habit and looked out over the class. Now that you subconsciously counted them you realised that the class was no bigger than your old English class; maybe it was even a bit smaller. You could so pull this off. "Well, my name's Polaris, I'm human - that's gotta count for something, right?"

This earned a ripple of laughter from the class - and much tail-wagging - and you smiled a little. "Uhh, up until yesterday I went to Prisedale High and didn't know I was even moving here 'till last night, I live alone with my father, have always wanted to live in Alaska and my dream job is to be a police officer." You still hadn't let go of that daydream.

The teacher nodded approvingly. "Very good. Please take a seat next to Meda; Meda, please raise your hand."

A wolfish girl near the back of the class raised a brownish-furred paw with a devilish grin, her golden eyes glinting. You found yourself grinning back as you slipped into the seat beside her, the teacher continuing her lesson where it had ended the previous day.

As you diligently listened to the teacher talk about the structure of a good novel, a note fell onto your desk.

'so ur a hmn in a mnstr school huh? prty gutsy if u ask me'

Mentally sighing at the use of bad grammar - and in English, no less - you waited until the teacher's back was turned and quickly scribbled a reply in your loopy, cursive script.

'To be honest, I didn't know until this morning, when I met Miss Toriel.'

You felt rather than heard Meda's rumbling scoff as she read and wrote a reply.

'miss? man she's got u rapped around her finger already. or should I say claw?'

You resisted the urge to laugh as Meda waggled her cream-coloured eyebrows at you when you looked over at her, her ears pricked suggestively. The rest of the lesson seemed to fly by.

Luckily, your timetable and Meda's matched up for quite a few lessons, so you followed her to your Maths class, looking at the abundance of monsters at the school. After a similar introduction to the one in English, Meda dragged you to two empty seats at the side of the room, right next to the huge north-facing windows, which let in plenty of natural light despite the overcast sky.

Maths was one of your least favourite subjects, but you couldn't resist laughing as Meda craned her neck to look over your shoulder at your work. You spent that lesson trying to explain to her that Pi was infinite.

"Yes, it's infinite."

"Nah, can't be, nothing's infinite!"

"Well, uhh, Pi kinda is."

"Nuh uh!"

"Uh huh."

"Nuh uh!"

"Uh huh."

"It isn't."

"It is."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"Well, what is it then?"

"Uhh, up until I remember... it's... three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight nine seven nine three two three eight four six two six four three three eight three-"

"Okay enough!"

Eventually, it was time for recess, and Meda had taken your hand and ran out of the class as soon as the bell rung, barely giving you time to gather your things.

"W-wait, Meda! Where're you going?!"

Meda gave you her now-signature impish grin. "To make you meet my friends."

They came to a small table out in the courtyard, where two twin fox-like monsters were engaged in a playful argument about the benefits of eating cheese. Meda came in between them and shoved them away from each other, her tail curling sassily.

"Yeah yeah, cheese is great, whatever, we've got a new addition to the pack."

She then turned to you and winked. "Heh heh, see what I did there? Addition? Cos we just had Maths? And pack? Cos I'm a wolf?"

You struggled not to snort, but eventually gave in. "Yes yes, very good."

One of the foxes, wearing a bright red shirt that brought out his silvery-orange fur, held out a paw, grinning to reveal amazingly sharp teeth. His leaf green eyes matched those of his brother. "Heya! I'm Felix."

You took his paw - a kind of awkward gesture, seeing as he had no fingers so to speak - and shook it. "Polaris. It's nice to meet you."

The other fox sat casually with his arms draped over the back of the chair and made no move to get up. His hoodie blended in almost perfectly with his fur. "Sup. I'm Leo."

You grinned and gave a small wave. "Sup."

The rest of recess was spent in the kind of interrogation one gave a new member of the group: "What school did you go to?"; "What's your favourite subject?"; "What do you have next?"; "Are you free after school?".

You paused at this last question, posed by the ever-calm-and-collected Leo. "... it depends."

Felix had continued to grin throughout the whole conversation, and now was not an exception. "Don't feel pressured or anything. We're just going out to get sushi after school; you wanna come?"

You hesitated, thinking of how far away the florist now was from your school, and quickly calculated how long it would take to get there and back home.

Two hours, tops. That gave you enough time to do something social for once, right?

"Yeah, sure."

Felix fist-pumped and turned to Leo. "Yes! See! I told you I could make more friends than just you and Meda!"

You had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter at his expression. His ears then went flat to his head and he turned back to you with apprehensive eyes. "Wait... we are friends, right?"

You finally laughed, and waved away his worries. "Felix, Felix, we're best buds now, don't worry."

Felix's eyes lit back up and he tackle hugged you with the widest grin you had seen on him yet. "See! See! You all heard it! We're best friends now!"

The recess bell went and the four of you compared timetables; Human History with Meda, then Science with Felix. As you went off to your next lesson with Meda you felt that same unfamiliar feeling from before in your chest.

* * *

 **Awwww, Felix is such an adorable cinnamon bun! :3**

 **Anyway, there are a few more filler chapters before I start moving along with the story, sorry... XD Also. To those who followed/favourited/reviewed HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. Also, if anyone knows a good beta reader (or you're willing to help me along with this little brain fart I call a fanfiction), I am looking for someone to do a little editing! Thank you! :D**

 **yukicarr: Thank you! :D**

 **badbloodkiller1: Haha, yeah, it's a bit obvious, huh? And thank you, hopefully I can get a few more chapters out soon.**

 **Multiple-Characters1-Acct: Haha, I hope so! Then I can brag to my writer friends... not. XD**


	6. Chapter Four

Human History with Meda proved to be a breeze, since you were, you know, human. The class was researching Medieval Europe, and you remembered doing a project about it in Year 8; you came close to completing in one lesson what the class had been working on for weeks.

You had monsters begging you for answers across the board, really.

Lunch came and went - you, Meda and Leo had to help Felix re-groom the singed fur of his tail after a tragic but hilarious accident with a Bunsen burner in Science - as did your final two lessons of Drama and Geography, with Felix and Leo respectively. As it turned out, Felix was pretty good at acting.

You waited with Leo on the porch-like structure by the car park outside, where you had all agreed to meet up beforehand; Leo had followed you to your locker and scared the life out of you with a toy spider, the jerk. You shivered a bit and gathered your hoodie around yourself, flipping the hood over your head. You almost looked like a ghost; white hoodie, light, ripped jeans, and black hair just peeking out from under the hood.

Leo suddenly pointed out Felix and Meda coming around the corner and the two of you went to greet them.

Meda was holding the hand of a smaller wolf-child, who had golden eyes even brighter than her own and tan fur that was shaggy and looked silky-soft. He only looked to be about five or six; though, it was hard to tell with monsters. He looked up at you, his eyes wide and curious, then with his free hand pulled on the hem of Meda's shirt.

"Is dat a hooman, Meda?"

Meda gave a rumbling chuckle that resembled a growl due to her parentage and slung her free arm around your shoulders. "Yup! This is Polaris. Polar, this is my little bro, Kit."

Kit gave you a measuring look, one ear twitching cutely - you had the sudden urge to touch them, but decided against it - before he walked towards you and put his arms up expectantly.

Having dealt with kids before, you took the signal and lifted him up into your arms, smiling as he giggled joyously at the sudden change in height. Meda grinned and ruffled the longer fur between her brother's ears and waved the group onwards to a nearby sushi shop.

"He loves humans," Meda explained as you amused the wolf-child by folding your napkin into an assortment of different animals. You even made a wolf and laughed as he tried to talk to it, responding to him in a gruff, mean voice, moving the napkin animal comically as you spoke, much to his delight. "I don't know why, he just does."

You grinned at her, putting down the napkin, to Kit's displeasure, with he voiced with a pathetic-sounding mewl. "Well, we are pretty awesome."

Felix was staring in awe at the napkin, his tail waving wildly behind him as he leaned on the table. Leo stood next to him with an amused smirk. "Woah! Leo, did you see it? Did you, did you? The napkin turned into a wolf!"

"Sure did Felix," Leo responded bemusedly. "Don't let it bite ya."

Felix jumped away from the table with a girlish squeak. Leo proceeded to chase him around the store with the napkin between his claws, making sound effects between his bouts of laughter.

You watched with a mixture of bemusement and a strange sense of calm as they ran around, much to the annoyance of the other customers. Eventually, after you saw some of the staff giving them looks colder than the cold rolls they were selling, you decided to stop their fun. "Leo, stop terrorising your brother!"

Leo grinned sheepishly at you over his shoulder from where he had cornered Felix and threw the napkin onto your table without looking. "Fine, fine."

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, where the staff were still giving your group evil looks. 4:15. "I'd better be heading off, guys; I gotta make a stop before I head home."

Felix grinned at you, but still didn't get too close to the napkin on the table. "See ya tomorrow, Polar!"

After similar farewells from the others - and a hyperactive hug from Kit - you left the store and began the trek down the road to the bus stop.

* * *

The daffodils were on special. A bunch of them for only a few dollars; you got as many as you could afford and took the bus back to your home in Burnside Hill. You opened the gate in the fence that led to your back yard, and placed the flowers carefully by the simple wooden marker by the back fence: 'In Memory of a Loving Sister'. You hadn't had the heart to carve out her name back then, and still couldn't so much as think of it, even after just over five years.

You looked to the slightly raised mound of dirt near the kitchen window, where the grass grew just a little bit thicker. Best not think about that, either.

You entered the house through the back door, which connected to the kitchen, and away from the biting cold of the wind. You saw your father asleep on the couch and had to stop yourself from smothering his face with a pillow, instead calming yourself with an ice-cold glass of water.

The truck was gone from the house across the road from the bus stop when you had arrived. You couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. You'd wanted at least to see who the newbies were.

Maybe even warn them. You shook the thought from your head as soon as it came.

The silence in the house was nearly deafening after the chaotic noise of the school. You finished your drink and looked in your stash of money to see how much you had; there was a new, monster-owned eatery a few blocks away, and you wanted to try it, if only for a change in schedule. You hadn't had the chance to go shopping like you had planned. You also couldn't stand the oppressing atmosphere in the house. And there was probably only enough leftover stir-fry in the fridge to feed your father.

You decided to stop creating reasons to justify going out for dinner.

Seeing you had what you suspected was enough, you left a note to your father - not that he'd wonder where you were, if he woke up at all - and left the house as quietly as you could, grabbing a black scarf as an afterthought.

The air was colder than a few minutes ago, the sun completely covered up by clouds. You wrapped the scarf around your neck and set off down the street, shoving your hands in your pockets and tugging your hood over your head. You buried your face in your scarf and sighed. While you didn't mind the cold weather, you didn't want to get frostbite, either.

Eventually, you came to the building you had seen a week or so ago on your way home from school; a restaurant simply called "Grillby's". You opened the door and sighed with relief at the warm rush of air that greeted you. You looked around to see a few monsters giving you odd looks before returning to their meals and conversations. There was a table full of dog-like monsters playing poker to your left, and some weird-looking ones on your right, so, not wanting to disturb either groups for separate reasons, you went straight ahead.

You walked up to the bar - at least, you guessed it was a bar, seeing as the flame-wreathed man standing behind it was dressed in a bartender's getup - and sat down a few seats away from the only other person at the bar, a short figure in a blue hoodie. A menu was placed in front of you by the fire monster, and you looked over it's contents.

You glanced back up at the bartender and said, "I'll have a burger, please."

The man nodded and went to the back of the restaurant and through a fire exit. You struggled not to scoff; you couldn't go through the fire exit. You weren't a fire.

"you're a new one, aren'cha? haven't seen ya around before."

You looked over at the figure in the hoodie, who had flipped his hood down to reveal that he was, in fact, a skeleton. A wide grin was set into his teeth as he eyed you with interest, round lights in his empty eye sockets glinting as if made from tiny gemstones.

"Uh, yeah, I only noticed this place a few days ago. I wanted to try it out."

The skeleton gave a throaty chuckle. "heh, you're more gutsy than most other humans, then."

"What do you mean?" you asked as your ordered food was placed in front of you; you thanked the bartender and tried to contain the drool dripping from your mouth at the aroma.

"oh come on, surely you're not so naïve to not notice how we're shunned aside." The skeleton then shook his head with another chuckle. "but never mind me being depressing. the name's sans. sans the skeleton."

He offered you a bony hand and you took it cautiously. "Polaris," you said. "You come here often?"

"... he's one of my regulars."

You looked up as the bartender spoke in a low, gravelly voice that oddly resembled the crackling of flames. You smiled sheepishly and gestured to your now empty plate; to be honest, you didn't know how that happened, but there was a delicious taste in your mouth that belied your missing memory.

"If the food is always this good I might join him."

The man's flames sparked a little, burning brighter for a moment, as if he were flushed. "... thanks."

Sans stood up from his stool and waved to the bartender. "i gotta run, grillby. gotta pick the kid up from undyne's place. just put the grub on my tab."

Grillby sighed frustratedly; a sound not unlike the hissing of a fire doused with water. "... you aren't going to pay that off any time soon, are you Sans?"

The skeleton just waved again over his shoulder with a laugh and was lost to the cold air outside.

You smiled to yourself and put some money on the counter to pay for your own meal; the food was actually very reasonably priced. You bid Grillby goodbye and followed Sans out into the wind.

After the warmth of the restaurant, the air outside was particularly cutting. The clouds were really dark now, even though you had only been inside for ten minutes at most. You saw a distant flash of lightning and hurried back down the street. Sans was nowhere in sight.

Your father was still asleep when you arrived home. You dumped your scarf and hoodie on the dining table - not that anyone actually used it as one - and sighed. You slid to the ground and put your back against the front door. You didn't move until your father woke up.

* * *

 **(Very late) Merry Christmas and (not as late) Happy New Year!**

 **...**

 **OKAY, YES, I KNOW, I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON, I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SOOOOO LONG...**

 **Anyway, I do have a reason. Aside from the delay I expected due to school stuff, and the usual socialising (*shudders*) that is expected around Christmas and New Year's, I had end-of-year exams and had two people in the family pass away in the space of a week, so there was the funerals and stuff so yeah, sorry... BUT I'M BACK NOW! :D**

 **Multiple-Characters1-Acct: Hehe, maybe so! (Hopefully I'm underestimating how much people hate me now that I haven't updated... ^^')**


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